Silhouettes: Take Two
by book5worm3
Summary: TASM. For the lovely lovely people who reviewed Silhouettes and wanted more: I give you take two. More of a vignette than a story. Focuses on one aspect of Gwen/Peter's relationship post-Silhouettes. Reviews are always welcome, but not totally necessary!


**_Authors Note: _****_Firstly, can I just take this time to say that this isn't really a 'chapter' thing, but this is me trying in some small way to give back to some truly kind and wonderful people who reviewed my TASM one-shot, Silhouettes. Seriously, reading those reviews was pretty much the highlight of my life. THANK YOU. I have felt obliged to give something back in the way of a TASM piece for a long time now, but I've found it really difficult to get things going. But tonight I just made up my mind to do something because honestly, you deserve it. As I said, I did this all tonight so I'm warning you now there are bound to me a multitude of mistakes but now that it's written I just had to post it for you guys. It is very different to my previous piece, because I (and the characters) am/are in a totally different mind-set now. I hope this doesn't disappoint. Another meaningless one-shot with a lot less of a plot line but just _****_something_****_ for those wonderful, wonderful reviewers. This is set POST-SILHOUETTES. _**

She always faithfully believed that good things come to those who wait.

But now she is also being reminded that things happen slowly, and in her case, painfully slowly.  
Peter had returned to her after that night in her bedroom. He had come back to her, though really he had never left her. And even though things had started off a little awkward and forced, that had soon melted off and then it was back to being the two of them, together. The thing now though was that things had inevitably changed. When they first met, or at least when they had been re-introduced into each other's lives they were in high school and he were regular, ordinary (though slightly more academically advanced) teenagers. Now they were both in college, Peter was Spiderman and with that also came the death of her father and their break up and reuniting. Big things had happened; big things had changed them both as people. They weren't average teenagers anymore. So things were different. Because they'd changed. _She_'d changed.

"Is everything okay, Gwen?" He asked for possibly the twentieth time since he'd swung in about three-quarters of an hour ago. He always swung in after his 'shift' as she'd begun to call it. They were in her bedroom, sitting on her bed. Gwen was cross-legged with a heavy old book balanced in one of her tiny hands, the other tracing her place on the old speckled page and Peter was behind her, limbs wrapped around her like a spider possessing his prey…

Gwen tilted her neck to the side as one of his deft hands drifted thoughtlessly to caress the soft milky skin just above her collarbone.

"Yes, Peter. I'm fine. As fine as I was the last time you asked me… ten minutes ago."

Peter smiled softly to himself, as his hand continued its ministrations up and down the expanse of skin which was being made more and more available to him as Gwen dropped her neck further and further to meet her other shoulder.  
That's when his lips went to join.

"Hmmph, Peter. However am I going to get any work done if you continue distracting me?" Gwen protested mockingly as she leaned further into his though, her eyes closing loftily and her hand on the page faltered.

"You work too much." Peter muffled softly and the pleasant vibrations of his lips against her sensitive skin gave her goose bumps.

"Mmm, Peter."

Gwen's book closed with a thump.

But just then, Peter removed his hands and his lips and dove into Gwen's lap, sending the tome flying in his wake. Gwen opened her eyes suddenly, dozily, to find Peter grinning boyishly back at her.

"Now that I've got your attention, let's do something… something fun!"

Gwen smiled wryly and ran a finger down the buttons of his shirt that he wore every time he had a meeting at the Daily Bugle. _God_, she loved that shirt. "I thought we were doing something fun or about to, at least." Her impish grin expanded and she leaned down to kiss him deeply.

Peter returned the kiss chastely and pulled away, his eyes alight.

"Not like that, something really fun. You've been working and studying so hard. You deserve a break. What do you say? I happen to know for a fact that film you wanted to see is on in… what time is it… twenty minutes. If we hurry we can definitely make it." Peter jumped stealthily onto his feet and reached for his coat. "If we take the back alley's we could even swing some of the way…"

As Peter frantically scanned the room for his belongings, Gwen sat open-mouthed on the bed, eyes wide and growing more and more irritated by the second.

"Peter."

"Shoot, did I bring my wallet?"

"Peter!"

"I don't think we'll have time to swing by Aunt May's… No, I'm sure I have it some-"

"PETER," Gwen shouted, her face scrunched up in anger and her eyes dark and stormy. "Would you listen to me? I don't want to go to the movies."

Peter looked up at her, guarded and scorned.

"But… but you've wanted to see that movie for ages… You've been trying to get me to go see it with you for ages, remember? With the girl who loses her memory and the husband trying to help and… remember?"

Gwen could see he was confused and she knew he didn't like when she shouted, but sometimes these days it was so hard to get through his Spiderman bubble, to get passed Spiderman and talk to Peter, her Peter.

She softened slightly and raised her eyes to meet his. She felt a little silly now.

"Yeah, I remember Peter, but I just… I've barely seen you all week and with those midterms I just had I'm just… I'm just tired, that's all." Gwen sighed to herself, and dipped her eyes downward.

Peter was beyond confused. He'd noticed Gwen had been a little quieter and busier recently but seeing her on the bed now with her head down looking so… so defeated, well it spiked his concern. "Gwen, are you sure you're okay? You look like you have something bothering you and you can deny it all you want but I know something's up. What is it? C'mon Gwen, I'm your boyfriend. You can tell me."  
Gwen could feel herself going instantly red and Peter knelt down in front of her. Gently, he took her head in both hands and looked into her huge helpless eyes, searching, searching, eternally searching.

Gwen pleaded with him to understand, pleaded with whatever gods or forces there were up there to _make_ him understand so she wouldn't have to suffer the embarrassment of putting these thoughts she was having, these feelings she was feeling into words. But when she was met with just the same confusion she lost all resolved and with a groan of frustration and sparks in the pit of her stomach she buried her hands in his hair and ferociously latched her mouth onto his.

Her body felt on fire and while she'd felt this way before it had never felt quite as intense. But just as quickly as the high had come, the cold bluntness of the low also hit as Peter pulled away. Now he was worried. Gwen was broken out of her reverie, like being woken up from a warm, cosy slumber on a winters morning by having a pale of ice-water thrown over your. Peter's hands moved frantically over her face, but not in the way she had been trying to illicit. His eyes followed his hands paths erratically.

He was checking her temperature.

"God Gwen, you're burning up. Are you sick? You must be, it feels like you have a fever!"

Gwen's throat clogged up with emotion and she almost felt a ridiculous laugh bubble up but the blockage in her throat muffled it considerably.

"I knew you were out of sorts," Peter continued. "You're right, you need your rest."

If only he knew, she kept thinking.

"Peter I'm not sick. Honestly, I feel fine!"

Peter shook his head stubbornly and reached for the throw on the chair. "Gwen, we all get sick and you're probably just run down from all your work and school. This is just your body's way of telling you what it needs. You, of all people, know how important it is that you listen to your body."

She was trying to listen to her body! For weeks and weeks her body had been craving her boyfriend's touch, for the touch of anybody who wasn't her and for weeks and weeks she had been trying to achieve this goal. How could he not know that? Could he not feel it? Had he not noticed the shameless advances she'd been making for weeks on end, now? Of course he had. She'd been practically throwing herself at him! Teenage boys were meant to be prone to that line of thinking, yet he hadn't laid a finger on her since they'd gotten back together. How could he not notice what he was doing to her? Peter Parker, freaking Spiderman with all his intuition and spidey senses. He could easily notice when a girl is a trying to make a pass at him. Spiderman's fan girls had made sure of that. And yet when his own girlfriend is trying her goddamn best to elevate their relationship to the next level, to create some sort of a physicality – totally oblivious. Typical, Peter effing Parker.

The cold hard truth of it was Gwen was starting to doubt that it was just Peter's oblivion that was the problem. She was starting to wonder whether Peter had any desire for a physical relationship with her at all. Things hadn't been the same since they'd gotten back together, Gwen knew that, she wasn't stupid. But even the little things now were gone. The sly glances, and goofy grins, the feather-light dusting of fingers against her hand or the inside of her wrist, the sweet, soft kisses and the hard, hot passionate ones. She hadn't experienced passion of any sort since that night he returned to her. She had once told him that if he wanted her it was all or nothing. He couldn't have the ignoring her for half the day and the wanting her for the other. But now, she desperately feared that this was the case and that Peter, that Spiderman was staying with her out of nobility and honour as opposed to love and desire. In essence, the cold hard truth of it was that apart from earlier tonight, Peter had barely touched her since they got back together.

"Now, come here and let me wrap this around you. I'll go and get you a mug of that tea you like while you change into your pyjamas, okay?"

That was it.

"Oh for God's sake, Peter, will you stop treating me like a fucking child for once and listen to me. I don't want to go to the movies and I am NOT sick. I just want to have sex with my boyfriend, okay? My boyfriend who says he's my boyfriend but has refused to touch me with a ten-meter fucking pole for months, despite all of my efforts. That's what's wrong! Happy now? That's what's wrong."

Gwen sat back down on the bed, her head dropped and tears building in her doe-like eyes. Peter had seen her cry several times since they'd gotten back together, and each time started like this. Fighting them back. But no matter how many times it had been or would be he'd never know what to do.

"Gwen?" He tried, softly, quietly. The timidity in his voice made her heart clench. He was frozen in silence for long bated moments while Gwen silently gathered her resilience. He sighed. She sighed again.

"It's fine, Peter. I just really am tired. I'm sorry."

"Gwen," Peter reasoned, reaching his long spindly fingers out to touch her shoulder but she hunched them tightly up to her neck and he figured that probably wasn't the best move to pull right now.

"I think maybe you should go, Peter. I'm clearly going delusional." Gwen's throaty voice said and her brief, monotone laugh was thick with unshed tears.

"I'm not going to leave, Gwen. You're clearly upset. I've clearly upset you."

The bed sunk where Peter perched himself cautiously as Gwen sniffed. Then she raised her head properly to meet his pleading eyes, imploring her to explain. Defiantly, she pushed her shoulders back and tipped her chin towards the ceiling. Her eyes were steely now.

"Can you just do me a favour? Can you just tell me what's going on inside that head of yours, Peter, because I'm beat trying to figure it all out?"

Peter shrugged under the intensity of her gaze. It was as powerful as a spotlight, and like a spotlight her gaze exposed every inch of him, no matter how hard he may try to conceal it.

"I just don't know what to do Gwen. Half the time I feel I make you more unhappy than I do happy. I just don't know how to do this," he gestured between their bodies, "without fucking it up somehow. And that terrifies me sometimes, paralyses me. I just want to make you happy."

His eyes, so wide and saddened and his voice so desperate and sincere. It breaks her every time.

"Then don't," Gwen said.

"Don't what?"

"Don't fuck up."

Peter exhaled heavily. "That's easier said than done," he said with an exasperated laugh and a wry smile, his eyes slowly lifting from under his eyelids to catch her gaze and deftly uncover her mood with him now. Gwen held his gaze, wiped her nose gently and shook her head.

"Not if you try. Because at least if you try your best, you're doing _something._" She smiled gently and for a moment Peter got his old Gwen back. Slowly, she reached her hand out and placed it on top of his. Peter swallowed heavily and geared himself up for what he was about to say.

"You know I'm not good with words. Why do you always make me do this?" Peter said with that naïve exasperation again, eliciting a throaty chuckle from Gwen.

"Because I was put on this earth to test you, obviously."

"Obviously."

Gwen laughed again and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter resolved himself to the task at hand again and focused his eyes on the floral pattern of her comforter.

"I do want to touch you, you know. More than I think you realize. I think about…that… all the time."

Gwen almost let out a laugh at how awkward she could see Peter felt.

"But don't you get it? What I want… in that way… isn't important. It's not up to me. I don't get to call the shots in this relationship, not anymore, not after…"

Gwen frowned sternly.

"Peter, if you keep punishing yourself for what happened before, how are we ever supposed to move on? If you're living in the past, we can never be in the present. It's hard enough with your whole, oh I don't know, leading a double life to really be present but if you're intent on torturing yourself for what's _in the past_, then this won't work. Be present, Peter, here with me. Just for this time, please. Be present. Be present."

Gwen lifted his face and leant in, gently pressing her lips against his. Soft meets rough. Everything about her was so soft.

Her hair, her cheeks, her lips, her jawline, the little indentation where her ear meets her neck, the column of her neck, her ribcage, her humble breasts that fit perfectly in his quivering hand, the skin of her stomach and just beneath her abdomen, the inside of her thigh, the slide of her calf, the sole of her foot, the trace of her nails against his naked back, the mewl of her throaty voice vibrating in his ear.

She was softness and light and hope.

That night, Gwen taught Peter to be in the present.  
She got what she wanted.

Now they're _present _as often as possible.


End file.
